Archive of Our Own

This was not how Joshua was planning on finishing his weekend after promoting the release in theaters of his latest blockbuster.

He carded his fingers through his hair before they got caught in his sunglasses. Annoyed and overstimulated, he yanked them off with a grunt and threw them on the back seat of the nondescript black van. 

The sunglasses landed with a plastic sound on top of the leather material. Behind the wheel, Chan pursed his lips, half concern, half annoyance.

“Seatbelt,” he said, the turn signal blinking lazily in the dashboard. Joshua reached behind him to put the seatbelt on and the car alarm stopped.

He had a headache.

At least they were able to escape the swarm of photographers and journalists waiting outside the movie theater where the special screening of his movie was being held.

“Well,” he said, finally breaking the silence. “That was a shitshow.” 

Chan winced, eyes still on the road.

“It kind of was.”

Chan wasn't only his manager and handler, he was his friend. Joshua trusted him. He dreaded the day he'd decide he was too old for the job and wanted something more stable, with a normal schedule, that didn't involve… Whatever mess Joshua was in.

And he appreciated the no sugarcoating, but he'd never admit he wanted the comfort of someone who knew who he was.

There wasn't much to be said, so the rest of the ride was made in silence. They avoided the paparazzi outside his building by going straight to the underground garage.

Joshua jumped out of the car and grabbed his things from the back seat. Chan rolled down the window of the passenger seat and threw his body across the seat to look up at him, concern between his eyebrows.

“Take it easy tonight, hyung,” he said. “Remember the meeting tomorrow morning, I'll pick you up.” 

Joshua waved a hand, and he felt Chan's eyes on his back as he walked to the elevator. He only started the car again when he was inside the metal box.

There were many unsaid things in that phrase. Chan had failed to mention that the meeting was an emergency meeting to discuss his future. He sighed before the elevator dinged and the doors opened on his floor.

He followed his usual night routine, getting a bath, doing all the fifteen steps of his skin care routine, and having something light for dinner, even if he didn't have an appetite. 

Then he collapsed in bed and had a night of sleep filled with nightmares.

“All things considered,” Chan was saying while they left the meeting room, “it doesn't sound so bad.”

Joshua gave him a glare, and Chan rolled his eyes. He missed a little when the younger man would be scared of his trademarked glares; now they were close enough that he dared to mock him. 

“But it is bad,” Joshua replied, sipping his coffee.

“It is like a full paid vacation,” Chan said, and when Joshua tried to grab his phone from his pocket, he snatched it. “I'm going to confiscate it.”

Joshua sighed. “Relax,” he said, extending his hand so Chan would give his phone back. He narrowed his eyes at him but gave up in the end. “I just want to let my mom know I'm not going to be home for some time. I promise I won't check.”

He had already. Plenty, enough for him to be sick of it. He had scoured the internet news portals for every single news article that he could find, and then did the same with the most popular social media sites. 

It was all kind of the same thing. Plastered all over the news, being the gossip of the town. Pictures included, even if blurry. They were clear enough that there was no point in denying that it was him in them, with another man.

Joshua didn't even know the man's name. He knew he had asked, but the music at the rooftop bar and the few drinks he had sloshed around his head and the name didn't stick.

He could've sued the bar. They prided themselves on running a discreet business, and yet somehow someone had sneaked in and snapped a picture that toppled his whole career. But celebrities stopped visiting the bar altogether, and that was damaging enough that in just a few days their revenue had diminished considerably. That would have to be enough.

Right now, he had to deal with the fallout. The fall from grace, from popularity, from the very top of the mountain he had worked so hard for years to climb up, until his nails were broken and his fingers were bleeding. 

Chan closed the door to the van after he climbed in, this time choosing the backseat. Chan knew that meant he didn't want to talk, so he drove in silence back to Joshua's place while he talked to his mother on the phone. 

Packing his bags was the worst. Neither he nor Chan knew where the higher-ups would send him, so there wasn't an obvious choice of outfits. They had to cram everything inside his luggage and call it a day, both their faces pursed in unconformity when Chan's phone lit up with an incoming call.

He rolled his black suitcase to the van waiting in the garage and they both struggled to haul it into the truck. Then Chan opened the back seat door for Joshua to climb in. That was when he noticed.

“Wait,” he said, rolling down the window and sticking out his head. “You're not coming.”

It wasn't a question. It was rather obvious, now that he thought about it. Chan still shook his head, a pitiful purse in his lips.

“Sorry, hyung,” he said. His phone lit up again, but he didn't pick up. “You're being sent alone.” 

Joshua had to inhale deeply to prevent himself from having a breakdown. Chan was the only thing that gave a semblance of normalcy to his life, and now he'd have to navigate strange waters without him.

“I'll handle things here,” he said with a blinding smile. “It'll be fine, don't worry.”

Yet, the only thing Joshua could do was worry. But he wasn't about to say it, especially not in front of the driver, so instead he scoffed and put on his sunglasses and facemask.

“I know it'll be fine,” he said instead. 

He was Joshua Hong. He always landed on his feet. He just needed to lie down wherever his team sent him until the news died down and he'd be able to make a comeback with another blockbuster. He was fine.

He wasn't all that fine. 

That was clear when the tall buildings gave way to the suburbs and then to miles and miles of countryside with the occasional stray sheep. He could feel the dust and dirt clinging to his skin, even when all windows were down.

The landscape didn't change for a few hours, where the van made it to a small town. Horrified, Joshua felt in his soul when the car stopped in front of a small bed & breakfast in the heart of the town.

“I'll get your suitcase,” the driver said, leaving the car as Joshua tore off his sunglasses. 

“There has to be a mistake,” he said when the driver opened his door, after rolling his suitcase to the sidewalk. 

The man raised his eyebrows at him, while Joshua refused to even undo his seatbelt, let alone leave the car.

He didn't even reply, so Joshua had to leave the safety of the car and stand on the sidewalk, then stare at the van driving off, leaving him behind. He clutched his suitcase handle before he marched into the tiny hotel.

It was… picturesque, at least. Very different from the luxurious hotels he was used to. 

He rolled his suitcase to the front door and a tiny bell installed on top of the door frame chimed. 

The hotel (if it was correct to call it that) used to very obviously be a house. He was standing in what probably used to be the living room, which now had a bunch of cozy-looking chairs by a big window that showed the street on one side, and a reception desk on the other.

No one was behind the desk, so he tried knocking on the wooden surface. 

“Just one second!” 

The voice came from somewhere behind a door located behind the desk. After what felt like forever, a man pushed the door while whipping his hand on a kitchen towel. 

Joshua took his sweet time looking at the man. He wasn't blind, after all. And the man was the kind of person who was worth looking at. His white t-shirt hugged his toned arms, and his longish hair was tucked behind his ears. He looked like he belonged on the big screen. Even when he had a silly pink apron wrapped around his waist. 

“Hi,” he said, feeling like a deer caught in headlights.

The man smiled, revealing sharp canines. He reached for the guest book on the desk and flipped it open.

“Name?” He said, still smiling a friendly smile. 

“Huh?” Joshua asked, still unable to shake the daze.

The man's lips twisted in a teasing smile, but he spared Joshua's dignity. 

“I need your name to check our reservations,” he explained, running his finger on the lines scribbled in the paper.

“Oh, right,” Joshua said, feeling so very out of his element. “Hong Jisoo.” 

The other man's gaze lingered a few more seconds on Joshua, an amused smile still on his lips, before he checked the book.

“There it is,” he said, his finger tapping twice at his name on the paper. “Our employee will show you to your room.”

He rounded the desk to open a different door that Joshua hadn't even noticed before. He tried to sneak a glance and he noticed it led to a backyard.

“Gahee,” he called, and then a girl materialized in front of them.

She was tall but her face betrayed her age, still clinging to childlike features. She was probably around twelve or thirteen years old, and she was clearly related to the man. Same long limbs, same polite customer service smile, even her bangs curled the same way to frame her face, only she had her hair tied back. 

Her eyes, though, were different. More almond-shaped, curved up, also brown but a few shades lighter.

“Good morning,” she said, almost mechanically. 

“She'll show you to her room,” the man said. “Don't hesitate to call if you need anything." 

“Sure,” Joshua said, trying to avoid his suitcase getting caught on the carpet, Gahee not even waiting for him as she moved to the hallway that led to the rooms. Then he noticed. “How do I…?”

“Ah, of course,” the guy slapped his forehead lightly and his smile got bigger. “Name’s Mingyu. I hope your stay with us will be good, Hong-ssi.”

Joshua nodded his head clumsily before he followed Gahee. She showed him to a room, which at least had a decent-sized bed. Still, it seemed a little crammed, a table and a chair by the window. She explained a few things but Joshua couldn't for the life of him pay attention. 

She was gone in a blink, and Joshua was left alone in his new room, with only a suitcase of his belongings, not even sure what random town he had ended up in. His phone was heavy in his pocket and he wanted to reach for it, to maybe call someone, or more likely to check the news sites. 

But if he was honest, he didn't have anyone to call. If he kept calling his mother, it would only serve to get her even more worried. And Chan was, at the end of the day, a co-worker. A subordinate, even, and he had already enough on his plate, trying to hold the fort back home.

He didn't have anyone else he could call a friend. Only acquaintances filled his contacts list, people from the industry that he could totally see tearing him up now that he had fallen from grace.

With a groan, he hauled his luggage onto the bed to search for a change of clothes. A shower was all he needed to clear his head.

Joshua discovered pretty fast that there wasn't much to do in such a tiny town. Especially not while out of tourism season, he noticed he was the only guest at the bed and breakfast.

He tried taking a walk to clear his mind, and he noticed a lot of shops were closed for the season. There wasn't much besides a few grocery stores, a coffee shop and a restaurant. Not much to note, at least, in his books.

The first night was awful. He tossed and turned, unused to the bed. Unused to the sounds around him, to the street light that came in through the window.

The morning proved to be even worse. Joshua crawled out of bed feeling like a beaten-up zombie. He was used to not getting nearly enough sleep, but not having his own proved and trusted bed was a whole different ball game.

It was made significantly worse when he dragged himself to the lounge and found Mingyu behind the front desk, looking like a million bucks. Joshua was sure he had seen supermodels at a Fashion Week who would look dull beside him. The thought infuriated him even more.

"Good morning," Mingyu said, as cheerful as the birds outside Joshua's window. "You're right on time for breakfast."

Joshua didn't suppress the groan that climbed up his throat. But Mingyu, bless his soul and his patience, only chuckled.

"How are you so happy in the mornings?" He asked, leaning on the desk, or more accurately, draping himself over it.

Mingyu leaned forward like he was about to share a secret with Joshua; they were close enough that Joshua was able to see the tiny mole he had on the tip of his nose. It was distracting, so he tried to focus on some random point on his forehead.

"I have a teen daughter," Mingyu whispered, wincing like it was a terrible thing. Like Joshua hadn't already run a whole X-ray of him and came to the conclusion that he adored the girl. "Once you deal with waking up one in the morning for school, everything else is a walk in the park."

"I guess I can't argue with that," Joshua replied, still a little distracted, and even more when Mingyu flashed him a sharp-toothed smile.

"You can choose a table," he said, pointing at the small salon. "I'll bring you breakfast right away."

Joshua dragged his tired body again, choosing a table where he could people watch. The window glass gave a frosty look at the people starting their day outside. The weather was getting colder and the breeze played with people's hair.

He didn't know how long it was until Mingyu was beside him again, putting a few plates in front of him. Only then did he realize he had never ordered anything.

"The house's special," he said, winking at Joshua. He pressed his lips in a tight line, and Mingyu was gone before he could even think about replying.

The morning was sluggishly slow; he couldn't find anything to do, so the hours wouldn't be as daunting. He tried reading one of the books available for guests, but his mind was too messy, and the voices of the characters were not loud enough.

Desperate for something to do other than obsessively checking his phone, either for some good news from his label, or scouring the internet for every single mention of his name, he emerged to the outside world again.

The front of the hotel was empty. Only the bell above the door said goodbye to him as he ventured outside.

He has trusted the clear sky way too much, but he for sure needed a heavier-duty jacket than the one he had grabbed. But he thought that if he went back inside, he wouldn't leave his room again, and he was already standing on the sidewalk, so he might as well walk.

He refused to shiver, even if he was cold. So he decided to move his body, and let it take him where his feet wanted. For the first time in forever, Joshua didn't have a carefully crafted schedule to live by, and he was left to his own devices in a strange town.

He was about to curse himself for not possessing enough hindsight to bring his trusted disguise of a cap and a face mask, but Joshua quickly realized he didn't actually need it. He walked with his hands deep in the pockets of his jacket, and no one paid him any mind. It was like he had always belonged to the landscape.

It was some sort of amazing, being able to walk around without worries. He didn't have to stop every few minutes to acknowledge someone, or to check if his disguise was still in place.

His feet took him to the grocery store. Joshua hesitated for a fraction of a second but ended up crossing the threshold, if anything, to escape the early autumn cold.

A friendly ahjumma greeted him by the door as he beelined towards the aisles. He wasn't one to cook much, he was more used to ordering food or eating outside. And it had been years since he went to a store, partial as he was to home deliveries.

The smell took him back, a mix of cleaning products and freshly baked goods. It was odd but somehow comforting, it reminded him of going to the store with his mother, hand in hand so he wouldn't get lost, as she browsed the aisles.

He was too focused on his own thoughts that he didn't even see someone else coming his way until it was too late. Joshua stumbled against a solid body and he would have embarrassed himself and land on the floor if it wasn't for a quick hand grabbing him by the wrist. Arguably, embarrassing in itself.

And, to add insult to injury, he knew the person in front of him. Probably one of the two people he knew in town.

"Are you alright?" Mingyu said, his grip solid around Joshua's wrist. He resisted the urge to free himself. The concerned wrinkle between his eyebrows was enough to make Joshua's stomach hurt.

"I'm fine," he managed to say, but Mingyu didn't let go until he was certain Joshua was steady on his feet.

They stared at each other and Joshua felt incredibly silly. It was egregious, even, how much he felt like he stuck out like a sore thumb in that town. He was able to keep a crowd's attention for long periods of time, but somehow, every time he was around Mingyu, it was like he was constantly sticking his foot in his mouth.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, and he immediately felt like slapping himself. Mingyu raised an amused eyebrow and held up his basket. "Right, of course."

"I think the real question is, what are you doing here?" Mingyu asked, a playful tone in his voice that Joshua couldn't help but notice.

He shrugged, trying to keep his dignity intact. Maybe if he went for a mysterious and a little eclectic persona, he wouldn't be as embarrassed. But judging by the smile still playing in the corners of Mingyu's lips, he was failing at his mission.

"Just… getting to know the neighborhood," he said, biting his bottom lip for how dumb it sounded to his ears. And yet, Mingyu's smile widened.

"That's great," he said, and his smile was infectious enough that even Joshua smiled a little. "I could use some company."

Joshua knew what that was, and he hesitated for a second. He didn't know if he wanted to make friends with someone he wouldn't see again after this whole mishap was resolved, but at the same time, Mingyu's face was so open and inviting. He had something that pulled Joshua closer, maybe it was curiosity, maybe it was a desperate need for real connection.

Whatever it was, he followed Mingyu around the store like a lost puppy, pointing at certain brands that he preferred over others, and making suggestions and requests for dinner later that day.

It was bizarre. Domestic, even, to hold the basket as Mingyu reached for some sauce that was on a top shelf. If Joshua tried for a second, he was able to picture a life where he had this. Normalcy.

And yet, it wasn't his, and he was reminded of it when Mingyu referred to him by a name barely anyone used. It was a glimpse of the things he'd never have, and that had been a choice he had made for himself. He knew if he pursued his dreams of acting, there were things he had to give up.

Before he could go down that spiral any further, Mingyu glanced at his watch and gasped.

"We should get going," he said, ushering him to the register. "Gahee is getting out of school soon."

Joshua wondered what it must have felt like, to have that sort of love for someone. That devotion, even. He followed Mingyu through the town streets, carrying a few bags after insisting he could, and they made it back with just a few seconds to spare.

The bell chimed and Gahee made her entrance, all narrowed eyes in suspicion. She dropped her school bag on a chair in the lounge and Mingyu sighed, which meant it was a battle he was choosing not to fight that day, Joshua could tell.

"Here," he said, like someone would try to appease a vengeful god, dangling a box of cookies in front of her. "Your favorites."

She regarded the offer for a few seconds before she grabbed the box. But before Gahee could tear into it, something else caught her attention. That something being Joshua, to his endless chagrin.

"What are you two up to?" She asked, hands frozen over the box of cookies, eyes narrowed and calculating.

"We stumbled into each other and Jisoo-ssi helped me carry some bags here," Mingyu said, and Joshua inhaled deeply. Of course, there was no reason to lie, since it was the most innocuous activity, and yet he felt like he had been caught doing something that he wasn't supposed to.

Gahee seemed to want to press further, but instead her eyes traveled from the plastic bag he was still holding to his wrist, where the sleeve of his sweater had been pulled up.

"Is that a beaded bracelet?" She asked, her voice casual, but there was an underlying edge to it that Joshua read as excitement.

He looked down at his wrist, almost forgetting that he had indeed a beaded bracelet. A fan had given it to him during the last fan event his company hosted. It was light green and white and has a white bead at the center with a pink heart engraved.

"It is," he replied, as if he was surprised by it wrapped around his wrist.

"Do you know how to make them?" She asked, cocking her head to the side in a gesture Joshua recognized from Mingyu, which made her look like a golden retriever.

He shook his head because it was true, he was handy and he was good with crafts, but he had never tried making bracelets. "Do you?"

Her whole face lit up and Mingyu chuckled beside him. Joshua kept blinking, not knowing what to make of the interaction.

"I make the prettiest ones in my year," she bragged, and then her eyes lit up even more. "Do you want me to teach you?"

Joshua eyed Mingyu, as if he could help him by telepathy to know what the correct answer was.

"Sure?" He ended up going for, and Gahee pointed at him so he wouldn't move before she bolted to her room, disappearing in the hallway.

She was back before Joshua could even process it, a box in her hands. He stared at Mingyu again when she grabbed him by the sleeve and dragged him to one of the tables in the lounge area. Mingyu laughed.

"Finally, something that will keep you away from the kitchen," he said, beaming at Joshua one more time, even when Gahee rolled her eyes at him, and disappeared into the back.

So Joshua ended up taking a crash course on making friendship bracelets, and he couldn't help but feel his chest puff out in pride when Gahee praised his humble attempts at matching colors.

That seemed to seal a deal that extended for a lot of his stay. Gahee, in the cryptic teenager way, had adopted Joshua. He was bored out of his mind, so he found himself waiting for the time the girl came back from school. Some days, they didn't even say anything; she would just find a seat in his general proximity and do homework or play video games on her phone. Joshua enjoyed sharing his time with someone else.

Mingyu often interrupted them, or inserted himself in the conversation. He usually brought some snacks as a peace offering and, when he had free time, he either got into Gahee's nerves, or teased Joshua, or participated in their activities. He sucked at anything that could be qualified as a craft, but he was pretty good at table football.

It became a routine, for Joshua. Something he looked forward to. It pushed everything else to the back of his mind, all the things that were eating at him but he couldn't do anything to fix them. There, between the four walls that made that bed & breakfast, he was safe and his life wasn't crumbling apart.

If he focused enough, he was even able to forget, for a few minutes, that back in Seoul his empty, cold, blank apartment was waiting for him, with its lights off and dark hallways, to envelope him with its silence.

Chan wasn't checking in very often, which Joshua assumed was because he was busy. There were probably plenty of fires to put off still, if the news still circulating on the front page of all the gossip portals was any indication. So, when he stood in front of Joshua and his plate of eggs on toast one morning, he felt pretty shocked.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, as Chan sat down in front of him at the table.

Joshua didn't even know how he found him, at the small dining in town. He had to just assume it was thanks to his scary manager superpowers.

Chan ordered some breakfast for himself when a waitress came around, and Joshua wondered if he looked just as out of place as he did. It was something that went beyond the outer layers, more about the way he carried himself. It screamed outsider, something about the way he was permanently guarded. People around that tiny village in the middle of nowhere were so different; they wore their hearts on their sleeves.

Joshua's mind went immediately to Mingyu and how easy it was to read the man. His face was so expressive, everything in him was like an open book. Candid, welcoming, warm. He shook his head, trying to keep himself grounded in the moment instead of letting his mind wander to places he didn't want to.

"Just checking in," Chan shrugged as a plate of food was placed in front of him and he devoured it. Joshua wrinkled his nose.

"Any news?" He asked, trying to veer the conversation to the topic that was stealing his sleep.

"Management keeps trying," Chan shook his head. "You know how it is, in time, some other scandal will take the spotlight and they'll leave you alone."

"Is it?" Joshua asked, bitterness coating his tongue. Chan furrowed his eyebrows in sympathy. "What can be more scandalous than Joshua Hong being gay?"

Chan clicked his tongue. "I can think of a few things," he said, jokingly. Joshua sighed, stirring his coffee that had grown cold already. Chan pursed his lips, defeated.

Joshua remained quiet while they walked back to the hotel. Chan recounted some office gossip, but Joshua didn't hear a thing about it. Still, having his rambling fill the silence was nice. It gave him back a sense of normalcy.

The bell on the door chimed and Mingyu looked up when Joshua came in, an instant smile on his face. Chan came in behind him, his chatter dying in his throat immediately.

Joshua looked back only to find Chan looking somewhere else, and only then did he notice someone else was behind the desk. It was a familiar picture to Joshua, seeing a certain man behind the computer screen from time to time. The only difference thing about the scene was that, when he spotted them (or, more likely, Chan behind him), he dropped the computer mouse in his hand. It clanked against the floor and he ducked to retrieve it.

Mingyu looked at him with a disappointed face as Joshua and Chan walked past them to his room.

"Hi," Chan said, and for the first time Joshua heard him be shy, timid, voice unsure.

"Hey," the guy said, before he hunched behind the computer and typed something, which Joshua thought was all pretend. His ears turning red were a dead giveaway.

"Who was that?" Chan asked as soon as they were in his room, sitting by the window.

"The owner?" Joshua raised both eyebrows. "Or the other guy you seem to have a thing for?"

Chan scoffed like he was offended, puffing his cheeks. For a moment there, Joshua thought that was his friend, his dongsaeng. Someone important in his life, not only a coworker.

He couldn't help himself when he chuckled, which made Chan take even more offense. "That's Wonwoo," he replied, sitting on the bed. "Mingyu, the owner, is pretty clumsy, so sometimes he locks himself out of the hotel system and Wonwoo has to come to the rescue."

"Wonwoo," Chan repeated to himself, trying the sounds on his tongue. "Do you have room service here? Do you want some coffee or tea?"

Joshua blinked, taken aback by the question. "We just had breakfast," he reminded him, but Chan didn't seem to listen.

"I'll just swing by the front desk real quick," he said, getting up from his chair like he had a spring attached to him and walking to the door, "ask them to bring some coffee."

"I thought you were here to check on me," Joshua complained, but the door was already closed and he was left alone in his room.

He could almost see Chan, leaning on the counter, million dollar smile on, charming some random guy he had liked. He shook his head, again that bitter smile clinging to his lips. It was so easy, for them. They were anonymous, faceless to the general public. They were allowed to fall in love at first sight and do something about it, no fear clinging to their skin.

No faceless, nameless people tearing them apart on the internet. No one sneaking around to take a picture of them and selling it to the media. No higher-ups telling them what to do and what to avoid. They were allowed to live their lives.

Joshua had so much. He had fans, he had an apartment in the most expensive district in Seoul. He had bought a house for his mother. He had everything he had ever desired: the spotlight, the fame. He did what he loved and he was good at his craft, which was more than the average person could say about their job.

And yet, he was the one alone at a random hotel in the middle of nowhere, while outside, someone else lived the love story he wanted. Someone else just outside those four walls was unabashedly himself. While he wouldn't, he couldn't.

His mind, treacherous, conjured a picture of Mingyu, hair behind his ears, ridiculous apron on, cheerful smile, dangerous fangs. All the things Joshua wanted, all the things he could never have. His fists closed around nothing, as always, as he set them on his lap.

He had so much, at the expense of company. Maybe that was it, for him. A life of solitude, always reaching for something but his fingers closing around nothing, just as his fingertips grazed the grand prize. Coming back down, empty-handed.

Days stretched. Joshua grew restless. He had no news, from anyone. Chan's replies to his inquiries were sparse and brief, not much to say. He hadn't swung by again, probably too busy back in Seoul.

Joshua looked out the window, a book on his lap, open but untouched. He found out that he didn't mind the quiet of a small town. It was different from everything he had ever known, different from the busy streets of Los Angeles, different from the permanent noise of Seoul.

Still, there was an itch he couldn't scratch. He was restless, he didn't get a lot of sleep most nights, the quiet eerie when he turned off the lights, his brain too used to the noise. He had given up on checking the internet, his name still somewhat floating around the most searched words, even if a few weeks had passed by.

A few weeks that felt way too long, his sense of the passage of time all warped. It was almost crippling. Joshua had always felt strange in his own body, foreign. Like it didn't belong entirely to him, but to his fan, to the vultures of the industry, to the higher-ups in their glass offices that liked to remind him that, due to the nature of his contract with their company, they owned him.

"Busy?" A voice asked. Gentle, warm. It startled Joshua out of his doom-mongering thoughts.

Mingyu's smile was comforting, a little crease between his eyebrows signaling worry. Joshua itched, confused. Why someone like Mingyu would be worried about him?

He shrugged, feeling the start of a headache behind his eyes. He pressed his palms against them, trying to make the dull pain recede with not much success.

Mingyu bit his bottom lip, his eyes dripping with concern. His fingers played with the hem of his t-shirt, tight around his chest and arms. Joshua wondered why the man was always in just a t-shirt, when they were well into fall, the trees orange and yellow, wind playing with the loose leaves.

It was almost infuriating. It messed with Joshua, it confused him. He wanted Mingyu, he felt like the strong hold of his arms would put him together, would mend the broken pieces of him.

But he couldn't reach out. They were from different worlds, Joshua belonged to the lights and noise and Mingyu was of the mellow and quiet town where he had been raised. Joshua was all sharp edges, jagged, and Mingyu was soft and round, welcoming. They weren't meant to be together. Even when Mingyu looked at Joshua liked that.

"You know, Jisoo," Mingyu said, and the name made his hand crisp around the book cover. Unfamiliar, foreign. "I don't know what's on your mind, what has brought you here, but…" He chewed on his bottom lip and Joshua followed the movement with his eyes. "I'm here if you ever want to talk about it."

Joshua stared at him. Suddenly, his blood was boiling, and he was angry. Represed, the therapist Chan had forced to see once would have said. Not angry at Mingyu but, if he looked around, no one else was there.

"Talk to you?" He said, his voice cynical even to his own ears. Sugary and fake. Mingyu's face fell. "As if you could give me good advice."

"I meant," he tried to clarify, but Joshua only scoffed. Still, Mingyu kept going: "I mean, if you ever need someone who listens—"

Joshua laughed, bitterly. As if he could just talk to Mingyu about what was going on in his life, in his mind. As if he could ever open up to someone else about the inner turmoil he had been forced to live with since he had memory.

"Please," he said, looking again out of the window. That in itself was a clue enough for Mingyu.

"Sorry to bother you," he said, and Joshua didn't look, but he did hear his footsteps getting away and eventually the door behind the front desk opened and closed.

Not even five minutes had passed when someone cleared their throat beside him. Joshua had already been too inside his head to notice someone sneaking up on him, so he was surprised when he turned around and found Gahee.

Her eyebrows were furrowed and her lips were twisted in distaste. And he was clearly the subject of her disdain. Her arms were crossed in front of her and her eyes were too similar to Mingyu's. Not in color, though. In something else that went deeper than physical similarities.

"That was an asshole move of you," she said, eyes narrowed.

"Excuse me," Joshua tried to say, but she cut him off with a sharp huff. He could only blink at her, surprised.

"I know you are Joshua Hong," she said, and Joshua almost choked on air. Not because she knew who he was, but because that name also didn't feel his.

"How—" He tried to say, but she was the one in charge. Gahee rolled her eyes at him, and Joshua had half the presence of mind to feel offended by it.

"I own a phone with internet," she replied, with the amount of sass only a preteen was capable of mustering.

Then something shifted behind her eyes and she sighed, dramatically. She let her arms hang beside her, which Joshua took as a peace offering. She looked wiser, maybe even older. She for sure looked like someone who could kick Joshua's butt. Maybe he even deserved it.

"I don't care who you like," she said, and Joshua felt all the blood abandon his face, cold fingers gripping his back. "But I do care about how you treat my family, and I really can't respect you if you treat my dad like that."

"You don't understand," he said, words piling in his throat. You're too young. You're too naive. The world hasn't beaten you up yet.

"What is it to understand?" She said, moving her arms in a way that reminded him of her dad. "My dad was trying to help and you were mean to him."

Joshua closed his mouth, lips on a thin line. He didn't have a rebuttal to that. She stared at him until she realized Joshua wasn't saying anything else, so she sighed like he was hopeless and left.

Her footsteps on the old carpet were haunting. The disappointment in her eyes was even more. It went deep. And maybe, just maybe, she was right. But he wasn't ready to admit it yet.

He didn't want to admit it, but life around the village while Gahee refused to talk to him was a bummer. And that to keep it in short, simple terms.

He wasn't the kind to hold grudges or have beef with people, not even with some former costars who had aggravated him after the promotions for a movie or drama were done. Joshua prided himself on being the bigger person.

And yet, he couldn't let go of it. A voice inside his head that sounded suspiciously a lot like his mother's, was telling him he was fixated on her words because she had jabbed her finger into an open wound.

Some part of him was, despite everything, amused. He supposed there was something petty in him, that enjoyed the flare and dramatics of teenagedom. He had to muffle a chuckle every time he'd come across Gahee in the hallways, as she turned her nose with a sound of careful rejection towards him.

He, turned out, enjoyed petty. Maybe his journey of self-isolation was imposed on him by someone else but, even if he refused to say it out loud, he was learning about himself. Maybe it was the years of being repressed, tightly woven inside a shell, away from the sunlight.

Since Gahee categorically refused to be around Joshua, the space she filled with her presence was vacant. Turned out, Mingyu filled it just fine.

"I'm sorry about her," he said, after knocking on his door to bring in a stack of fresh towels. "She can be quite a handful."

"I don't mind that she's strong-headed," Joshua replied. "I do miss the conversation, though."

That seemed like the right thing to say. Mingyu lit up the entire room with a smile, crooked, showing his fangs.

"She won't admit it, but she does too," he said, voice dropping to a whisper, like he was telling Joshua a secret. "She's been sulkier than usual."

That forced a laugh out of Joshua, and Mingyu's smile widened.

"At least I'm not alone in my misery," Joshua sighed dramatically, making Mingyu chuckle. His eyes sparkled under the cheap lightbulbs in his room.

But then something shifted in the air, and Mingyu's hand came to scratch at his neck. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, looking bashful. Almost embarrassed. Shy, for sure.

"It's just that it's been just the two of us for so long," he said, voice dropping with intimacy. Joshua knew this wasn't something Mingyu said often. He was getting the privilege of being privy to something the other man held close to his heart, so he made sure to listen carefully. "She's just protective of me."

Joshua chewed the inside of his cheek, not sure of what to reply to that. He wasn't used to vulnerability, it wasn't common currency in his line of work.

"Who could blame her for loving her father?" He said, staring directly into Mingyu's eyes.

The smile he got in return was small, and it held something precious. The moment stretched between them and Joshua wanted to hold it in the empty hollows of his hands.

"Alright," Joshua said, not able to handle the silence anymore. The staring. "I'm sorry," those were words he wasn't used to say, even less out loud. "I won't treat you like that ever again."

Mingyu's smile this time was blinding. Joshua had to refrain from covering his eyes with one hand.

"Deal," he said, laughing. Blush colored his cheeks. "And don't worry, Jisoo-ssi. She'll come back around in time. Her bad mood never lasts long."

And with that, Mingyu retreated to the hallway and walked away, a spring in his step again. Joshua tried not to stare too much, closing his door and dropping face-first on the bed. He inhaled the smell of inexpensive soap and softener. He wondered how many people had ever told Mingyu how similar he and his daughter actually were.

Joshua rolled around in the bed until he was on his back, like a starfish, staring at the ceiling. The shapes in the wooden panels seemed to mock him, distorted faces with open, laughing mouths. He was the butt of the joke.

He liked Mingyu. Romantically. For real. It wasn't mere attraction, it wasn't something he could grab and shove into a compartment in his mind and not look at it ever again.

It was almost like a revelation. Like when he first realized he was into men, that girls didn't really spark anything in him. It felt right because it was the truth, because admitting it after holding himself back was freeing. It felt wrong because, even after all these years, a part of him told him it wasn't like it was supposed to be.

And Mingyu, of all people. There was no place in Joshua's life for him. Not in a cutthroat place like the ones he was used to navigating. Mingyu was soft-edged. Hyenas would tear him alive. So Joshua convinced himself it was for his own good. For both of them. He squashed the feelings under the sole of his expensive shoes.

Joshua quickly learned that when Chan went radio silence, it was good. Because, otherwise, he only has bad news to deliver. So when he showed his face again at the hotel, face flushed from the cold and hair messed from the wind, he knew he didn't bring anything to be happy about.

Joshua skimmed through the folder Chan offered him. His room was silent as his fingers caught on the files, only the sound of the paper cutting through the thick air.

"I don't get it," he said, dropping the file on the tiny table between them.

Chan chewed the inside of his cheek, probably unsure if Joshua was expecting an explanation or not.

"Executives are not liking the numbers," he ended up saying. "Board members are getting nervous. The company's image has dropped, and it doesn't seem to be climbing up. Not even pushing for the girl group comeback to be earlier than projected."

Joshua looked out the window, staring at people strolling down the street, with bags full of fresh produce or hand in hand with a child bundled up in a scarf and hat.

"So they're letting me go," he said, not quite a question. Chan stopped breathing for a full second.

"Nothing's definitive," he said, fingers drumming on the table. "But the idea was thrown around."

Chan kept trying to lift his spirits, to dismiss the idea of the company getting rid of their most profitable actor, but Joshua didn't say a word. His mind had already gone to the worst-case scenario. What was he, without the spotlight, without his life in between the flashes?

Was he even able to do something else half as good as he acted? If his company dropped him, would any other company take the risk to offer him a contract? If no one deemed him worth the risk, was he worth something, anything at all?

"Hyung," Chan said, after a while. His eyebrows were furrowed, as if he sensed Joshua's inner turmoil. "I need to get going now. Will you be fine?"

Joshua wanted to laugh, bitterness threatening to spill from his lips. But, instead, he dug into his mask of the perfect celebrity, the one every Korean mother saw on TV and sighed because they wanted a guy like him for their daughters.

He smiled, eyes crinkling at the edges, teeth flashing, before he waved a hand like nothing was wrong. Everything was wrong.

"Sure, I'm fine," he lied. "Are you driving back home?"

With almost perfect timing, just as Chan opened his mouth to reply, his phone, face up on the table between them, lit up with a new notification. He grabbed it a the speed of light, so Joshua couldn't see it.

"Yeah, later tonight," he said, unable to lie, his cheeks flushing rapidly.

In any other occasion, Joshua would have been like a shark attracted to blood. He would have fun torturing Chan until he spilled his secrets so he could make fun of him. But, at the time, his attention was elsewhere, so he allowed Chan to leave with his dignity intact.

Still, the silence in his room was too much to bear. Too defeaning, it felt like the walls were falling onto him. He didn't want to have to look at himself any longer, so he wandered to the hallway.

Gahee was nowhere to be found, and even if the passing of days had softened her, she was still taking offense whenever she saw Joshua. So, instead, he knocked on the door behind the front desk, ignoring the staff only label.

"Come in," Mingyu said from the inside and Joshua did, pushing the door with both hands. It felt good, to press both palms against the cold surface.

The kitchen was spotless as always, the only disturbance in sight was Mingyu working at the counter. His sweater sleeves were pulled to his elbows as he worked on kneading some dough.

"Oh, Jisoo-ssi," he said, a spark in his eyes when he saw Joshua. The name felt like a tiny cut to his heart. "What's up?"

Joshua made a noncommittal sound, his hand finding the steel counter and letting the cold bite of the metal ground him. Mingyu kept working, but his eyes were on him. Joshua allowed himself to stare, just for a few seconds. The strain of his biceps when he worked the dough, the stain of flour on his forehead, the way he had his eyebrows furrowed with concern. Concern for him.

In front of him, there was a man. A wonderful man, at that. Not only beautiful, but also possessing every good quality someone could ever want. Hard-working, handsome, kind.

Unreachable, as well. Impossible. Forbidden. Beyond Joshua's wildest dreams. Mingyu would never be his. He was just momentarily allowed to bask in his light.

"Did you get bad news?" He asked, and for just a fraction of a second, not even a whole beat, Joshua allowed himself to daydream.

To fantasize that he was coming home, a normal man, to Mingyu, to unwind, to tell him about his days. To have someone safe to drop all acts, where Joshua could be himself. Someone who could get inside his head, undo the knots. He thought about his warm brown eyes, filled with love.

But a family wasn't in the cards he had been dealt.

"Something came up at work," he diverted, going for vague. He hoped Mingyu wouldn't press more.

Maybe it was because Mingyu was intuitive, but he didn't try to get more information from him. Joshua was secretive about a lot of things, so at least he was safe.

Mingyu hummed before he grabbed the dough and put it in a baking dish covered with a rag to rest.

"Judging by your face, it must be bad," he said, as he washed his hands. Joshua drummed his fingers on the counter. "But you'll work it out somehow?"

"Yeah, somehow," he replied, knowing fully well that there was nothing in his hands that he could do about it. It depended entirely on someone else and that was the worst part of it.

Mingyu crossed his arms before his chest as he observed Joshua. He leveled his gaze, feeling a little bit like a deer caught in headlights. But then his eyes widened by a fraction and he snapped his fingers before he busied around the cabinets.

"My grandma used to say there were two things that would always make things better," he said, voice muffled as he almost climbed into the cabinet. Joshua caught himself smiling. "One is talking about it, which I know you won't do…"

Then he emerged with a bag of chocolate chip cookies, saying a small ta dah under his breath. Joshua couldn't help but snort a laugh, covering his mouth with his hand when he noticed.

"Or," Mingyu said, opening the pack of cookies and offering one to Joshua. "Eating something sweet."

"I'm more surprised that you have this instead of making them from scratch," Joshua said, biting into the cookie. It was sweet and chewy and he did feel his shoulders relaxing as soon as the sugar hit his bloodstream.

"You are being mean," Mingyu pouted. "This is an emergency. But, I think something could make them better."

He grabbed more stuff from the cabinets, taking a bag of chocolate chips to the stove and making quick work of melting it. Then he dipped a cookie and offered it to Joshua.

"This can't be healthy," he said, but he grabbed the cookie anyway. Mingyu shrugged.

"Again, this is an emergency."

They were quiet, munching on the cookies. The light coming from the windows dimmed, night taking over slowly. The silence was comfortable and Joshua wished he could remain there, in that small pocket of time and space, with Mingyu.

"Did you—" he cleared his throat, voice raspy. "Did your grandmother make this for you?"

Mingyu nodded like an eager puppy and something pulled at the strings in Joshua's heart.

"She used to run this place like the navy when I was growing up," he chuckled softly, voice low like he was telling a secret. "But I guess she had a soft spot for me. She sneaked chocolate chip cookies for me when my mom grounded me."

Joshua laughed, the sound coming out light even to his own ears.

"Can't picture you being bad enough to get grounded."

"I was a pretty wild kid," Mingyu said, puffing his chest before he burst into laughter. "What about you?"

"Me? Oh, no Grandma. Just my mom and I," he said, his eyes focused on the food instead of Mingyu, even when he felt his eyes boring holes in his skull. "She worked a lot."

Mingyu's eyes were so warm, the warmest Joshua had ever seen.

"So, not a lot of cookies?" He tried, making Joshua laugh again. That was the worst part, how easy Mingyu made it seem. He knew it wasn't.

"There were cookies," he said, enveloped by the safety Mingyu radiated. He didn't notice when he had taken a few steps, standing directly in front of Mingyu, chocolate bowl and cookies forgotten. "I just made them myself."

"Oh," Mingyu said, raising his eyebrows. He had a playful smile on his lips and his voice was low. The smell of chocolate was overwhelming. "You must make them for me then."

Joshua nodded, his eyes dropping to Mingyu's lips. That was all it took. Then, his hands, big and warm, were cupping his face. Mingyu leaned forward and Joshua closed his eyes, but no touch came. Instead, a ghost of a breath against his lips.

"Can I?" Mingyu's voice was not even a whisper; Joshua was almost convinced he had said it straight to his heart.

He nodded again and then, finally, Mingyu's lips were on his. He tasted like chocolate and sun and Joshua grabbed him by the arms, trying to keep himself balanced.

When Mingyu's tongue swiped his lips, Joshua realized what he was doing. He was kissing a man in the kitchen of a bed & breakfast in a town he couldn't even be bothered to remember by name. He was kissing a man whom he hadn't even told who he was or what he was doing there. Mingyu was kissing a lie while Joshua was kissing a fleeting dream.

He pushed him away, gasping for air. Mingyu took a good few steps away from him, hands raised in surrender.

"What do you think you're doing?" Joshua hissed. It was unfair, he knew it, he had said yes. Mingyu knew it, his eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

"I thought you —"

"You thought wrong," Joshua said, trying to regain his footing, even if he felt like he was sinking in quicksand.

Mingyu's demeanor changed. He didn't look like a kicked puppy anymore; instead, his lips pursed in frustration.

"We both know I didn't," he said, and Joshua closed his mouth. "We both wanted this. And before you say it, it wasn't nothing."

"You don't know who I am," Joshua replied, feeling heat climbing up his chest. He was angry, not at Mingyu, but at himself. At the place he was, depending on the whims of some old men in suits back in Seoul. At the impossibility of finding happiness and comfort in his life. But never at Mingyu, but he was at hand's length. "You don't know anything about me."

The frustrated line between Mingyu's eyebrows quickly gave way to disappointment.

"No, I don't," he said. "Because you won't let me in, Jisoo."

Joshua didn't reply. He couldn't. There was nothing he could possibly say to save whatever frail thing was blossoming between them, not without telling him the truth. The whole truth. And he couldn't bear the thought of someone else looking at him, the entirety of him.

"Just leave me alone," he said, voice cracking, shoulders slumping. He crossed the door and didn't look back, no footsteps followed him to his room.

Joshua was awake when the sun came up in his window. He didn't do much sleeping the night before, tossing and turning. Reliving his conversation with Mingyu. Thinking of what things would have been said to make it better. To make it worse.

He touched his lips enough times that he thought he would erase the feeling of Mingyu's lips on his. So far, no success.

Almost as a habit, he checked his phone. Once he unlocked it and got into his burner social media accounts, he frowned at his screen.

The volume of new posts per minute was crazy, and he kept scrolling, catching a few words here and there. Dating, scandal, idols were the words that came up the most. But his brain wasn't able to process it until he found a picture. It showed a collage with two idols, both the most popular ones in their groups, always toe to toe on who led the charts. He knew the girl was having her acting debut in the upcoming year, but that was it. He wasn't too much into keeping up with celebrity gossip unless it involved him.

He was trying to make sense of it when a call startled him. Chan's name was plastered on his screen and Joshua blinked before he picked up.

"What's up?" He said, voice raspy and sluggish.

"Hyung!" Chan said excitedly on the other side of the line. "I'm on my way to pick you up. Good news! Start packing up!"

Joshua tried to gather more information, but Chan was secretive, so he hung up and looked at his things all scattered around the room. The tiny room that had been a safe haven, a home, a place where to let his walls down for a little over a month.

He started by putting his suitcase on the bed and then methodically gathered all his things. He dropped his clothes wherever they landed, not caring if they got wrinkles. He was almost done when Chan called him again to let him know he was parked outside.

Leaving the bed and breakfast was odd, to say the least. He dragged his suitcase to the front door, the wheels catching on the carpet. All lights were off and he took a big gulp of air, trying to get all the different scents printed on his mind. The smell of homemade food, the lingering scent of Mingyu's cologne, the diffuser on the front desk that he knew was Gahee's work.

The smell of a home. Only not his.

Chan helped him pull his suitcase into the trunk of his car and he joined him on the passenger seat. He decided not to mention the fact that he was wearing the same clothes as the day before, or why he was still around at ass crack of dawn, or who the new scarf he was wearing around his neck belonged to.

Joshua smiled to himself. At least one of them could have a happy ending.

"Care to explain what is going on?" He asked, just as Chan pulled into the highway. The signs pointing at Seoul made him shiver.

"Dispatch started threatening companies with leaking a celebrity couple as the new year approaches," he explained, eyes nailed to the road. "Only one couple decided to come forward instead of getting exposed."

The clogs inside Joshua's mind started spinning.

"So that dating scandal is all it takes?"

"It's enough for people to pay attention to something else and forget about you," Chan replied, voice softer this time. "The executives had an emergency meeting and decided your hiatus is over."

For the first time in a number of weeks, Joshua felt the tension easing off his shoulders. His mind wandered to the note he left behind, haphazardly scribbled on a scrap of paper.

He knew a piss poor piece of paper was never going to be enough, but he couldn't leave without saying bye. He also couldn't face Mingyu, so he had chosen the cowardly path. Now, he was just a memory in Joshua's mind, a sweet, soft thing that never quite came to be. He could stare fondly at it now, from a safe distance.

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he saw the very same name he was trying to put distance with in the caller ID. His heart constricted inside his chest, realizing that Mingyu probably woke up— if he had even slept at all— and marched straight to his room. Probably to attack him with healthy rhetoric about talking about feelings. Only to find that he wasn't there anymore.

Joshua turned off his phone and tossed it in the back seat before he burrowed deeper into his coat. He let Chan's idle chattering lull him to sleep, finally.

The first schedule he had was the premiere of a movie in which one of his former costars starred.

He stood on the red carpet, his suit impeccable, hugging his body exactly right. He smiled his practiced smile, the one he knew photographed well, and his eyes swept through the cameras behind the line separating press from celebrities.

He was giving an interview, the topic of his temporary hiatus completely avoided, when he thought he saw something in the corner of his eye.

The reporter followed his eyes but Joshua shook his head, the spot where he thought he saw it —him— was empty. Of course it was empty.

He kept ignoring it. He knew it was his mind playing tricks on him. Joshua ignored the haunting Mingyu's eyes that kept popping into the corner of his eye, trying to startle him.

Instead, he posed for the cameras. He ignored the warm brown eyes he longed to see, and showed his best angle for pictures. And yet, when the staff member ushered him to keep walking and pointed at another celebrity to take his place, it all felt a little bit too ominous.

He followed the hand on his shoulder guiding him inside the venue, but he stole one last look at the crowd. He knew it wasn't real, but he wanted at least one last chance to see Mingyu's eyes, even if they were conjured up by him. He didn't see them. Instead, he saw another actor, up and coming name, standing in the exact same place that was his a few minutes prior. The camera crew shouted the same thing that had just shouted at him and it was like seeing himself in a fractured mirror.

Then he realized how expendable he was. There was always going to be someone else, younger and more beautiful, with better-kept secrets, ready to take his spot. Joshua had always thought it was worth it anyway, for the applause, for the adoration of his fans, even if fleeting.

He wasn't so sure anymore.

Chan didn't even try to spark some conversation on the ride home. He was used to his changing moods, so he let him be. He only said a few encouraging words when he closed the passenger door at his apartment complex, but they fell on deaf ears.

His apartment was empty. The only thing welcoming him back home was the lights off. It was cold, the December weather bite already in the air. Joshua shivered, cranking up the thermostat.

The cold seeped through his socks as he made his way to the kitchen. He didn't turn on a single light, able to navigate his place in the dark. He was used to it. He didn't get visitors often and the darkness felt somewhat like a cover.

The fridge light drew shadows in the objects of his kitchen while he grabbed a bottle of water. It made it look sterile, lonely. He clutched the bottle as he looked for his phone, scrolling through his contacts until he found the name he was looking for.

"Hi, Mom," he said, falling easily into English. He leaned against the counter, bottle still unopened in his hand.

"Sweetheart," she replied back, and he could tell only by the sound of her voice that she was smiling. It made him smile as well. "Weren't you just at an event?"

"Just came back home," he said, letting himself slip until he hit the floor, not caring about his expensive suit. "I felt like calling."

His mother understood him, even when he didn't say anything out loud. She knew he needed something to ground him, so she launched into telling him a story about her friends at Church. Joshua didn't listen to the words, instead, he focused on her voice, the way she almost sang, her voice going up and down the line.

It made him feel better. Better enough that he was able to reply to her anecdotes, more and more words slowly stringing together each time.

"Son," she said, her voice changing slightly. He could hear it even on the phone, and Joshua knew she was serious and that he couldn't escape it. "Would you tell me what is going on?"

He pressed his lips into a thin line. "I don't know," he ended up saying, sincere, finally. "I met someone but… I wouldn't work out."

"Oh," she said, her voice dripped concern. "Why?"

He turned the bottle in his hand, still unopened, hesitating. "Our lifestyles, they're just too different."

His mother hummed, the sound soothing. "Are you fine with the decision you made? Of putting your lifestyle first?"

He stopped moving, stunned. "I don't know," he whispered, honest.

"I think you know, son," she whispered as well, like they were sharing a secret. It oddly reminded him of one time Gahee jumped on Mingyu's back with the ease of a naturally athletic kid to ask in a whisper in his ear if they could have breakfast for dinner, but she did such a poor job that even Joshua heard.

His mom was right, he did know.

"I'm gonna hang up now, Mom," he said, getting up and dusting off his slacks. "I forgot there was something I needed to do."

"Sure," she said with the conspiring tone of a mom, and he was about to hang up when he heard her add loudly: "And don't forget to put up your Christmas decorations!"

He looked around, at his cold apartment. He hadn't put up holiday decorations since he moved in years prior. Maybe it was time for a change.

He considered calling Chan, but decided against it. If he was going to do this, it had to be meaningful. It has to be him, every step of the way.

He barely got any sleep that night. And when he finally got some sleep, it was filled with anxious nightmares. Still, he woke up early the next day, despite having the rest of the weekend free.

Joshua looked in the mirror for a second, the trusty celebrity-in-disguise uniform on. A hoodie on top of his soft sweater, a cap obscuring his eye and a facemask covering half his face. He longed for the few days back in that small town, picturesque, where he didn't have to hide his face half the time or be subject to people approaching him at random.

It was early enough that the grocery store was almost empty, besides a few other patrons. He wandered through the hallways, pushing his cart, carefully selecting items. He didn't get to do such a mundane activity often, so he enjoyed it.

The cashier gave him a look, probably suspecting something of his outfit, but didn't say anything. He walked back home, the plastic bags digging into his fingers in a way that made him feel real.

He peeled off his disguise like it was a second skin, feeling like he could breathe better once it was off. Like he had shed something else, besides a few pieces of clothing.

His fridge was mostly empty, but he had a few spices he needed, nestled in the cabinet. The smell of butter and sugar brought him back to another kitchen, the one in his childhood, his fingers sticky with dough.

He wanted to be optimistic, so, as the cookies cooled on a rack on his counter, he pulled a bag from his closet. He packed only the essentials for a few days, because being optimistic was fine, but he didn't want to jinx it too soon.

Joshua wasn't the kind of man to dwell too much in front of the mirror, not when he knew he looked good. And yet, he found himself trying slightly different wash jeans, like it was too big a difference. Like Mingyu would care, or even notice.

He wiped his hands on his jeans, clammy and slightly sweaty. Then he grabbed his bag and the container full to the brim with his cookies and rode the elevator to the garage. The soft elevator music didn't help soothe his nerves.

His car sat there, mostly unused, since he was usually driven around. It still felt nice to grab the wheel, his fingers curling around it, the smell of leather hitting his nose. Joshua decided to make the drive in silence, only the mechanical voice of his GPS cutting through it.

The drive felt too short, shorter than what he remembered. He panicked a little as the sign by the road welcomed him to town. A thin sheet of snow covered the streets and his eyes were attacked mercilessly with the most amount of Christmas decor he had ever seen in one place.

He drove slowly and carefully, taking the town in. He recognized a few of the folks walking around the street, bundled up in scarves and hats as they were. Something tugged at his heartstrings, dragging him in. Something crafted with care, the smell of familiarity. A place that wasn't quite a home yet, but teemed with possibility.

The town seemed to thrive during the wintertime, the streets fuller with life than during the fall. As he hopped out of the car, a few people stared. The coffee shop owner gave him a raised eyebrow and Joshua replied with an awkward wave.

He took a few deep breaths as he stood in front of the hotel. The wind made him shiver, even under all his layers. He decided to use it as an excuse and finally pushed the door. The bell chimed, but no one was behind the counter.

The sound of his footsteps on the carpet was familiar. He let his fingers trace the lines of the front desk, the wood cold and solid under his touch. He bounced on his heels, sounds coming from the kitchen.

"Just one second!"

Joshua felt his heart jump inside his chest when he heard Mingyu's voice, even if it was muffled by the distance. He still had time, he could run now, before Mingyu even saw him. Bury whatever this thing making his heart beat out of pace was, shove it into a drawer and forget all about it. Pretend it never existed, go back to his previous life.

But his previous life, shiny and all, wasn't as bright as this. Even the Christmas tree in the corner was better than coming back to his empty apartment or attending a meeting in a room decorated with the most soulless mass-produced decor. Here, everything had life infused into it. The Christmas lights seemed to shine in a different way, in a shade similar to his childhood.

The door finally opened and Mingyu crossed the threshold, wiping his hands on his apron. He was frozen before he could even open his lips to greet him.

"Hey," Joshua said, his voice coming out shaky despite his best efforts not to let it show.

Mingyu's entire demeanor changed. His eyebrows furrowed, not with anger, but with hurt. He took off the apron and set it on the desk, eyeing Joshua but not saying anything.

"Any available room?" Joshua tried to joke, but his voice landed flat between them. Mingyu remained stoic, holding his cards close to his chest.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, and Joshua's heart squeezed inside his chest.

Mingyu's voice was deep and it oozed all around them. It filled the whole room, even if he didn't raise it. And it didn't show any anger, just some deep hurt. And that was on Joshua. He had hurt Mingyu.

There was no easy way out. Joshua inhaled through his nose and imagined the oxygen flowing through his body. He couldn't just magically appear in front of Mingyu and expect that would fix it all. He had to face it head-on, with actual words.

"I guess the reason I'm here," he said, the words coming out easier once he started, "is to apologize."

Mingyu still looked down, his shoulders a little saggy, his lips pouting. Joshua couldn't back out; he had to keep going.

"I need to apologize for a number of things, actually," he continued, and Mingyu crossed his arms in front of his chest, raising his eyebrows. Waiting. He inhaled deeply again. "First of all, I didn't tell you the whole truth. I go by Joshua and I'm an actor. I'm sorry for lying to you."

That seemed to placate Mingyu a little bit, his posture not as tight, his shoulders relaxing a bit, the furrow between his eyebrows not as prominent. But he still didn't give in and Joshua thought it was fair of him.

"Gahee showed me," he said, before Joshua could continue with his grand love gesture, if it could be called that. A deep blush colored his cheeks and his shoulders went up to his ears. "On her phone. I did think you looked familiar when you first came in."

Joshua was curious and wanted to keep on expanding that train of thought, but he decided it wasn't the time, he had other priorities. If he was lucky and played his cards right, Mingyu wouldn't hate him and he'd be able to ask some other time.

"I also owe you an apology," he continued, the air still tense, as if it knew the worst was to come. "For how I treated you. I was an asshole and you didn't deserve it. I was scared, and hurt. Being gay," he said, the words getting stuck in his throat, being one of the few times he'd said it out loud, "it can be lonely at times. It's hard, being vulnerable. I'm working on it. If you forgive me, I would like to treat you like you deserve. If you'll have me, of course."

Mingyu blinked at him, his hands going to his sides, limp. His eyes were wide and his lips were slightly parted. Joshua shifted his weight from one foot to another, nervous when the seconds kept accumulating and Mingyu remained silent.

But then, relief struck him like a punch to the chest when Mingyu crossed the few steps between them to wrap his hands around his waist. His warmth seared through the layers of clothing.

"I didn't actually think you'd say that," he whispered, only for the two of them to hear, even if they were alone. "I know how it feels, being alone and scared," he chuckled, "I'm a single dad to a teenager."

Joshua snickered before he gathered all his bravery and wrapped his arms around Mingyu's neck.

"I get it," Mingyu leaned forward, their faces close. "I really get it. And I forgive you. But don't think that you're off the hook just for this, we still need to have a long conversation about all of this."

Joshua nodded, knowing it was reasonable, but at that point, he'd say yes to whatever Mingyu asked of him. His lips were a hair away, almost touching but not quite.

"So," he said, fingers tangling in Mingyu's hair. "About that room…"

"We're fully booked," Mingyu's breath fanned against his cheek and Joshua closed his eyes. "But I can accommodate you in my room, do you mind?"

"Not one bit," he finally crossed the distance, and it felt like naturally falling forward. Mingyu's lips were soft and he pressed himself closer to his body, bringing his hips together.

Then the bell from the front door chimed and they were met with gagging sounds. Mingyu pushed himself away and even though his hands left Joshua's waist, he didn't stray too far. Joshua blinked, a little disoriented, until he saw Gahee, arms crossed in a way that made her look so much like Mingyu.

"This is so unprofessional, Father," she said, but the way her lips curled around the edges gave her away. There was also the spark in her eyes, which Joshua also noted and his heart swelled inside his chest. "Bad for business."

"Gahee," Mingyu started, and groaned when she lifted a hand.

"I'm going back to uncle Wonwoo's place," she said, still faking disgust, but the blush of happiness was starting to creep to her cheeks. "At least he only makes lovesick puppy dog eyes at his phone and I don't see any funny business. And he buys me take-out."

"No more take-out," Mingyu chided and she pursed her lips in a way Joshua recognized as the start of an argument.

"Actually," he said, clapping his hands like he had just remembered something. "I need to buy some Christmas decor for my apartment," then he walked to the door and held out his arm for Gahee to grab. "And since you have impeccable taste, would you help me pick a few things?"

She gave him a look, one that wasn't playing and meant business. One that made Joshua feel like he was stripped to his very soul, intentions bare for the world to see. And, finally, when he was starting to break a sweat, she nodded slightly. Approvingly, even. And then she linked her arm with his, and Joshua felt like he had won already.

"Also," he added, in a conspiring tone, "I bought cookies. They're homemade."

Her whole face lit up as she yanked the door open, the cold wind hitting their faces.

"Next time, lead with that," she said, dragging him to the cold of the town. He heard Mingyu sighing behind them as he grabbed his coat.

"Have a reasonable amount," he said, already defeated. "Don't spoil dinner!"

Then his arm came to sneak around Joshua's waist, his touch grounding and comforting as Gahee rambled about her favorite kind of cookie and that vintage Christmas was the best kind of decor.

"Sorry," he whispered, only for Mingyu to hear, leaning subtly against him. "I have to make a good impression."

"I can already tell you two together are going to be so much trouble," Mingyu teased, poking his finger between Joshua's ribs and making him squirm with a small laugh.

They had so much stuff to figure out, a few skeletons in the closet that were still waiting to be aired out, and a pending conversation, and yet— Mingyu still wanted him around. As new and frail as it all was, it was the spark of something. Of a future. Of a family. And, for once, Joshua allowed it for himself.